


Lonely

by Mrs_Monaghan



Series: Pleasing My Readers (prompts) [42]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Blow Jobs, Happy Ending, Lawyer Ian, M/M, Older Ian Gallagher, stripper mickey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-11 22:54:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10476363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrs_Monaghan/pseuds/Mrs_Monaghan
Summary: Christmas Prompt:Ian is lonely and he hates it. He is thirty five years old, living in NewYork, and yet he can't seem to settle down. Lip and Carl are getting married on Christmas Eve which means Ian has to go back to Chicago even though he doesn't want to. There he meets a stripper who makes his night.Unfortunately for Ian that means nothing since at the end of the day he is still alone.(Changed Summary)





	

                 Ian leaves work fairly exhausted but still with enough energy to hit the gym. Today however he's only in the mood for the treadmill but not much else. He spends the first 15 minutes skipping and the other 45 minutes on the treadmill. By the time he's ready to hit the showers he's feeling so much better. Working out always gets him in a better mood. It made him feel better. With his 35 years he couldn’t afford to let himself go. Especially considering the fact that he was still single.

Ian didn’t know why he was still single. He was good-looking, successful, fit, why couldn’t he land a relationship? Scratch that, he knew. Men took one look at him and for some fucked up reason didn’t think he was relationship material. It had been six years six Ian slept with anyone for this exact reason. Men preferred to fuck him, preferred to have some kind of arrangement where they only hook up but when Ian wanted to take things to the next level, they would bolt. Ian didn’t get it. All he wanted was to settle down. What was the point of having a good job, a good house but no one to share it with?

He sighs deeply when he gets in the shower and the water falls on his back and shoulders. He holds onto the wall and just lets the water keep coming down on him. Ian was unhappy and it sucked. It sucked so fucking much. He was alone. He was lonely. He hasn’t had sex in six fucking years because men walk away when he refuses to put out on the first date. But Ian is thirty five fucking years old. He is done with this friends with benefit bullshit. And he would rather be alone than keep playing games. Except Ian was scared. He was nearing forty and he still hadn’t found someone to share his life with.

All his siblings had settled down and had kids. So had all his friends. This made it seem like something was wrong with Ian. Even fucking Lip had managed to maintain a relationship for more than three years now. Ian was this close to being depressed.

He turns off the shower and wraps a towel around his waist. He's by his locker when the guy who was on the trend mill next to him approaches him.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” Ian replies while putting his t-shirt on.

“Saw you out there. That was hot.” Ian tries not to roll his eyes too hard. “Wanna get out of here?”

“No.” Ian finishes dressing and shuts his locker forcefully before walking away.

Case and fucking point!

**____________________**

 

Ian gets to his two bedroom house and checks the mail while blindly walking towards the kitchen. There's nothing dire so he just places them on the counter and grabs himself a beer. He looks around his spacious house where he lives _alone_ and sighs.

Newyork was supposed to be the city of dreams and yet Ian hadn’t met the man of his dreams. Something has to be wrong with him. Does he have ‘cheater’ engraved on his forehead? Does his appearance scream ‘commitment issues’? Why the fuck does every man he meets only want to use him for his body? Fifteen years he's been living in Newyork and all he's managed to do is get ahead job wise and moneywise. But that was about it.

Five years since Ian went to Chicago to visit his family. And he was okay with that.

Every time he was over there they looked at him with _pity_ in their eyes. Ian hated pity. Fiona and Lip asking him repeatedly what exactly was wrong with him and why he couldn’t seem to get a man. Why he Ian was pushing them away. Why wasn’t Ian settling down and yet he was almost forty? Telling him how he needed to grow the fuck up. Well fuck them! They didn’t know shit!

They had no clue that Ian tried. Tries. Every day he tries. But all he's seen as is a sex fucking object. It's not his fault he is single but they never seem to understand that. So yes, Ian hasn’t been to see them in five years. Always comes up with excuses about how his private practice –where he is a demn good lawyer thank you very much- needed all his attention during holidays. Including Christmas.

Downing a beer and rubbing a hand across his face, Ian heads to his master bedroom to undress so he can take a real shower. He can't think about this right now. He's just going to get even more unhappy than he already is. Once he's clean, he fries some chicken wings, prepares soup and cooks some rice before settling in for the night. It's on Friday night but Ian will be damned before he steps his foot in a fucking club. He's misses it sure, but why go to a place where people will assume he's just there for a bang?

In the middle of his movie he gets a phone call from Lip. He considers ignoring it but they haven’t spoken in two weeks and that’s still his big brother so he receives the call. “What?”

“Nice to hear from you too.” Lip retorts his voice dripping with sarcasm. “So I know your work always seems to come first during Christmas,” his brother never did mince his words. “but I am still your brother and you _will_ come to my wedding.”

Ian sits up his feet landing on his soft carpet. “You're getting married?”

“Yes. Carl too. We decided to kill two birds with one stone so we’re having a joint wedding and both our ladies agree.”

“You're getting married?”

Lip sighs on his end. “Hard to believe, I know.” he chuckles and then goes quiet suddenly. “I miss you Ian.”

Ian inhales sharply. “I miss you too.”

“Then please come spend Christmas with us this year. I'm not the only who wants to see you Ian. So do Carl, Debs, Liam. Please. Our weddings are on Christmas eve. That way you don’t have to stay for longer than you need to. We know you’re busy so the wedding will be on Christmas eve, then the next day we can spend the holiday as a family. See? Two days. You can spare two days for your brothers’ wedding right?”

“Of course Lip. I'll be there.”

Lip sighs loudly clearly relieved. “Thank you Ian! Can't wait to see you.”

“Yeah,” Ian sniffs. “Me either.”

As soon as Lip hangs up Ian stares at his glass coffee table for he doesn’t even know how long. Lip and Carl are getting married. _Lip_ is getting married. If this news isn’t a slap to the face then Ian doesn’t know what is. But those are his brothers. And he hasn’t seen them in five years. And at the end of the day he loves them. He won't miss their best days. For two days he can take their sympathy looks. Then he will be back at his home safe and sound.

And alone.

His life fucking sucked.

**____________________**

Ian doesn’t tell anyone when he lands in Chicago. He doesn’t tell them because one of them will insist he stays with them and Ian would rather not. The lesser time he spends with them the better. He loves them but no, just no. So instead he checks himself into a nice beautiful four star hotel. Once he's settled in he calls Debbie.

_“Ian! You’ve arrived? You need me to get you?”_

“No, I'm fine Debs. I'm already settled in my hotel.”

Debbie gasps _. “You're staying at a hotel? And why didn’t you call one of us to come and get you from the airport?”_

“I'm fine Debs.” Ian laughs, happy to be hearing his sister voice since a month ago.

_“So…?”_

“So?”

_“Did you bring someone? Like a date for the wedding?”_

“Is that a requirement?” Ian asks.

_“No. But we assumed…”_

“It's just me Debs.” Ian interrupts already feeling that familiar heavy weight in his chest. He hasn’t seen any of them yet and he's already feeling like shit.

 _“Okay. It's not normal Ian just so you know.”_ she points out. _“but, it's your life I guess. You coming for dinner at Fiona’s?”_

Yeah, Ian would rather not. “I'll just see you guys at the wedding tomorrow if that’s okay.”

 _“Yeah, okay.”_ Debbie accepts like she’d been expecting that answer. Which Ian supposed she should have because having him here in itself is a miracle. _“See you tomorrow then. Love you Ian.”_

“You too Debs.” As soon as he hangs up he checks his phone. 5:00PM. “Fuck it.” Ian says.

He's back in his hometown. He hasn’t been clubbing in over two years. So yeah, fuck it. He's hitting a gay club and he will drink, and dance, and let men grind on him. Tomorrow he will watch his two brothers get married. He will witness them accomplish the one thing Ian hasn’t been able to. He might as well be hangover for it. Only way he's going to be in a position to be happy for them.

But first, he’ll go down to the hotel’s restaurant and eat to his fill so he can drink as much as he can tonight.

With that resolution, Ian feels much better. The bad mood Debbie’s phone call left him in, lifts a little bit.

**____________________**

When Ian made the decision to go out, he didn’t have a strip club in mind. But that’s where he ends up. He takes a moment to enjoy the feeling of being back in a club. He walks into the place and it's just as he remembers it. The crowd, the noise, the lights, the ambiance. All of it. He finds himself smiling as he heads towards the bar. He orders four shots, drinks them in quick succession, then heads over to the middle of the floor to watch the dancers on stage. He takes a couch and sits himself comfortably as he sips on his glass of scotch watching stripper after stripper.

None of them get Ian going. Sure they're hot but they're the cliché type of strippers with the muscles and the six pacs and the same fucking moves. So Ian just sits there and enjoys the show but even if he wanted a private dance he wouldn’t ask any of these men.

Ian gets up and heads back to the counter for a refill. Without going back to his seat in front of the stage he decides to keep watching from the counter. So he grabs his new drink, leans on the counter facing the dancers.

“You want a private dance fire crotch?” Ian turns on his left to look at the owner of the voice. Ian finds a brunette with his shirt unbuttoned and his jeans unzipped too. Ian can tell he's one of the strippers because of the glitter.

“Fire crotch?” is what Ian replies with.

The guy raises a perfect eyebrow that renders Ian impressed. “I'm I wrong?”

Ian smirks and shakes his head. “You're one of them?” Ian points at the stage with his glass.

“Mm-hm.” The guy nods.

“Why didn’t I see you?” Ian asks. “Been here watching all night.”

“I went first today.” the guys replies. “So? Do you want that private dance or not?”

Ian leans with his elbow on the counter so he can see the guy better. Even in the many neon lights Ian can tell the guy’s eyes are blue. Very blue.  “You got a name?” the guy opens his mouth to speak but Ian stops him. “Your real name.”

The guys smirks and thumbs his bottom lip. That action alone has Ian already very interested. “Mickey.”

“Ian.” They shake hands. “And yes to the dance.”

Mickey takes Ian's drink and finishes it. Ian just smiles and when Mickey takes his hands leading him to the backroom, he follows willingly.

 

They get into an empty room with one long leather couch and Mickey pushes him on it before straddling Ian. He can't help but bite his bottom lip when Mickey starts to grind on him. “You're pretty hot.” Ian voices breathlessly because Mickey is now repeatedly grinding on his crotch. “Shit.” Ian throws his head back biting his lip harder when Mickey runs his hands across his chest grinding their dicks together. “How old are you?”

“Old enough?” Mickey replies with a genuine smile that Ian wants to kiss off him.

“How old is old enough?”

“Twenty one.”

“Ngggg.” Ian moans when he feels a hand on his crotch. “This part of the deal?”

Mickey looks him in the eye and Ian forgets how to breath for a second. The brunette shakes his head ‘no’ slowly. “I like you.” Ian is taken aback by that. “So it's on the house. And so is this.” Before Ian can fathom what's going on his belt is coming undone and his zip is being pulled down and his cock is springing free.

“Shit.” That’s all Ian can say. Usually Ian wouldn’t let this happen, but he's a man starving. Hasn’t had anything but his right hand for six fucking years. And there's hot young guy between his legs licking his lips like Ian's dick is some sought of dessert. How the hell is Ian supposed to turn that down? He lifts his hips thrusting into Mickey's hand as soon as the latter wraps his around his fully hard cock. “Mick.” Ian breaths.

Mickey only hums in reply, as he strokes Ian's dick. He then hollows his cheeks and swallows Ian down halfway. It takes everything in Ian not to thrust upwards into the warm mouth. He can only hiss and groan as Mickey begins to bob his head while pumping what he can't reach with his hand. Ian whimpers and opens his legs even wider so Mickey can settle better between them and swallow his dick even more. it's been so long before Ian felt this he thinks he's about to die.

“So good. So good.” He grips the edge of the couch tightly to prevent himself from pressing on Mickey's head instead.

He watches Mickey's lips stretched around his hardness and Ian thinks he might come just from the sight. Mickey is relentless. He's just sucking and sucking and sucking like a fucking expert. Almost taking in Ian's entire nine inches and he has never seen anything so beautiful. Ian reins in a proposal just so he can have this feeling forever. He gasps and lets out a shuddering breath when his dick touches the back of the other man’s throat. He tries to center himself so he doesn’t come too soon. But when Mickey looks up at him still sucking him off with vigor, Ian looses it and grabs Mickey's hair, tagging on it so he doesn’t come in his mouth. Instead he comes on the brunette’s face and lips. Mickey runs his pink tongue across his bottom lip licking what's on there and Ian's spent cock jerks.

“Jesus Christ Mickey.”  Mickey just smirks, gets up, and with a wink, he walks out of the private room with Ian's jizz still on his face. Fuck if that doesn’t make Ian hard again. “Shit.”

**____________________**

Ian gets back to his hotel room feeling sated and amazing and lighter and a lot of other things he doesn’t have adjectives for. Back at the club once his legs started working again, Ian had gone looking for Mickey but didn’t find him. Mickey had disappeared on him. And even though this is what usually makes Ian stay away from people who only want sex from him, Ian is not upset. On the contrary he can't stop smiling. He met an amazing guy tonight. And yeah he may have been a stripper and Ian is probably not the first person Mickey has blown but Mickey didn’t charge him, that has to have meant something, right? Ian still considers having met the other man a wonderful and special experience.

That blow job… oh God that blow job has Ian wondering when he can go back to the club and look for the missing stripper because Mickey had rocked his world for sure! He would think about that tomorrow though. Right now he needed to sleep. Tomorrow he had a wedding so Ian needed to sleep if he was going to be on time.

He sleeps with a smile on his face and he's not ashamed of it.

**____________________**

Ian has just settled in the church on the grooms’ side when he does a double take. He is busy talking to his niece who’s all grown up now, Frannie, when he catches sight of Mickey on the bride’s side.

 _What the hell?!_ How? Why? What was he doing here?!

Ian is pretty sure Mickey hasn’t seen him yet so he leans back on the chair and hides with Liam who is on his left. Which of course turns out to be useless because he is required to be on the podium at the front by Lip’s side seeing as he's the best man. Try as he might he can't stop looking at Mickey and the latter just keeps smiling cheekily. Like he's not surprised at all while Ian is having a mild panic attack.

Somehow, and for some strange reason, Ian and Mickey end up seated together during the reception. They end up at the same God demn table, right next to each other.

“Hi fire crotch.” Mickey greets for the second time since Ian met him.

“What are you doing here?” is what Ian needs to know.

“Attending my sister’s wedding. The fuck does it look like?” Mickey replies with a smirk.  He then draws his bottom lip between his teeth and flashes of last night, of those full pink lips wrapped around Ian's member start floating through his head. Ian is forced to drink his entire bottle of water in one go. “What's wrong Gallagher? Cat got your tongue?” Mickey winks suggestively and Ian swears that this man right here will be the death of him.

“I should have seen it. You look alike.”

“What?” Mickey frowns, confused.

“You and Mandy, you look alike.” Ian elaborates.

“Well, I don’t want to talk about my sister right now.” Mickey says quietly pushing his chair closer to Ian's so their legs are touching.

Ian swallows again. “What do you wanna talk about?” his breath hitches when he feels a hand go up his thigh and between his legs. Mickey cups his flaccid cock and Ian presses on the hand so it stops moving. “What are you doing?” he asks through gritted teeth. “We are in public.”

“Are we?” Mickey asks removing Ian's hand from his with his other hand.

Ian looks around uncertainly. All the guests are pre-occupied, no one is paying attention to them, people are busy drinking. No one cares. He bites his tongue so hard he draws blood when Mickey's hand go inside his trouser so he can really jerk him off without the restriction of the material. Ian bites onto a napkin to prevent himself from moaning loudly when he comes on Mickey's hand and in his trouser.

Mickey is insane.

Is what Ian concludes.

In less than twenty four hours of meeting the guy, he has made Ian come twice without asking for anything in return. Twice. What is his angle?

“Your turn.” Ian says before grabbing Mickey by his hand and leading him away from the party. He pays attention to no one when he guides them to the men’s room.

None of them say a word when Ian pushes Mickey inside the first stall. Not even a peep when he pushes him against the wall, pulling his trousers down to his thigh, and uses spit and precum to penetrate the brunette and fuck him against the wall. It's just grunts and quiet curses in the stall as Ian gives Mickey a taste of his own medicine. He fucks the shorter man fast and hard and relishes in his loud groan when he paints the wall with his come. Ian comes inside him soon after.

Mickey turns to face him with a smirk as they straighten their clothes. “With a dick like that, I didn’t expect anything less.” He says still trying to even out his breathing. “We go back?” he asks and Ian nods wordlessly.

They go back to the reception party like nothing happened. But Ian doesn’t take his eyes off Mickey the entire time.

 

However, when the time to leave comes, Ian can't find him again. Dammit, why can he never remember to ask for that boy’s number? Maybe he should ask Mandy? Nah. And what reason would he give?

**____________________**

 

Unlike last night Ian heads to his hotel room sad and disappointed. Because just like all the men Ian has encountered, it's all about sex with Mickey. Ian likes him. He really does. But as soon as they're done Mickey disappears on him. He retires to bed with a heavy heart and even though he had a few beers at the party he doesn’t sleep a wink. Ian spends the night staring at the ceiling and for the millionth time wonders what could possibly be wrong with him that no man wants to spend any time with him unless it involves sex.

When the sun rises and the room starts to fill with light Ian is still wide awake. It suddenly downs on him that he is going to die alone. He might as well face it now, he will be alone forever. This is his life, he will be a spinster forever, he will be lonely until the day he dies. The realization comes with a sharp pain across his chest that has Ian burying his face in the pillow and breaking down.

For the first time in a long time Ian cries. His phone starts ringing but he throws it across the room. Fuck Christmas! Fuck everyone and fuck everything! Ian hates his life. He is done searching, he is done looking. Something is wrong with him and he will never find love. It's almost like he's fucking cursed.

Ian, exhausted and tired of being alone, cries, sobs, his heart aching. He lets it all out alone in that hotel room. Just like it's always going to be.

It's when Ian's all cried out his throat and eyes ache, that he hears a knock on the door. He waits it out incase it's room service. They will be in and out in a minute. The knocking does not subside but instead gets louder. With a tired groan Ian gets out of bed. He walks towards the door and pulls it open.

“Mickey?”

“Hi.” Mickey replies shyly.

“How did you find me?”

“Lip.”

Ian frowns. “What do you want?”

“To talk to you.”

With a loud sigh Ian starts to close the door. “Not in the mood to fuck Mickey.”

Mickey stops the door from closing with his hand. “Not what I'm here for.”

Ian frowns harder, confused but still steps aside. As Mickey looks around the room Ian goes and sits on the edge of the bed.

“You alright?” Mickey finally asks after a while.

“I will be.”

Mickey takes off his coat and joins Ian on the bed. “What's wrong?”

Ian shakes his head. “Why are you here Mickey?”

“I like you.” Ian waits it out because at this juncture he has no fucking clue what that means. “I meant it that day at the club and I mean it now.”

Ian scratches his forehead. “I… what?”

“I know you don’t live here and are probably just… fucking passing by or whatever but, I like you. From the moment I saw you at the club I had to…” Mickey trails off.

Ian on the other hand his heart rate is speeding up and will soon be out of control. “You like me.”

“Yes.”

“For more than just sex?”

Mickey looks into his eyes and Ian can’t help that his own well with tears. “More than just sex.”

“But…” Ian sniffs. “You're like eighteen years old.”

“Twenty one you dick.”

Ian snorts and laughs. “Still. Mick we can't…”

“Why?”

Ian gets up and starts pacing. On the one hand Mickey likes him, on the other, “You're a twenty one year old stripper who gets paid to… to… I.” Ian sighs. “I'm thirty five Mick. I am looking for something serious. A s much as I share your sentiments I can't… date you!”

Mickey stands up. “a, fuck you for assuming just because I'm a stripper I blow everything that walks. b, age is none fucking factor. c _, I like you_. Like really fucking like you.”

“I live in New York.”

“It's not that far.”

“Long distance relationships never work.”

“Fine then I'll come work there.”

“I can’t date a stripper. If you're mine, you're mine. You're line of work…”

“It's not like I was planning on stripping for the rest of my life anyway.”

“Mickey.”

“Ian.”

“I'm… _old_.”

Mickey shakes his head with a smile and walks towards Ian. He slowly pulls Ian's t-shirt above his head. “No you’re not. You're anything but. Fucking hot is what you are.” He adds.

“Thought this wasn’t about sex.” Ian can't help but smile, feeling touched.

Mickey smirks. “I've had you inside me. It's a little bit about sex.”

“This is crazy.” Ian whispers once Mickey is half naked too. “You can't just uproot your life for a person you’ve known for two days.”

Mickey shrugs. “If it doesn’t work out I'll come back. Newyork isn’t that far Ian. There is no reason that you can come up with that I won’t find a reason of my own to fight you. So please say yes so we can be together.”

Ian stares at the beautiful young man before him. “We haven’t even kis…”

He doesn’t finish that sentence before Mickey is slamming their lips together. Ian is taken by surprise but he returns the kiss immediately. As soon as their lips collide, they slot together perfectly and it is a kiss that was definitely worth the wait. Their mouths open to let each other in. It's wet it's sweet, it's so intoxicating Ian feels his entire body tingle. He grabs Mickey's neck and pulls him closer, so the kiss is deeper. They breathe through their noses and pull back to gasp for air and grin at each other before they're kissing again. Mickey guides Ian towards the bed and the redhead lets him.  

“Is this a yes?” Mickey asks breathlessly.

“Yes.” Ian replies just as out of breath caressing the smooth cheek gently. “It's a yes.” Ian straddles Mickey and peepers kisses on his neck. “Spend Christmas with me.”

“Yes.” Mickey whispers without hesitation.

And Ian thinks maybe his luck is finally changing.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for readin! Leave Kudos and comments if u like.  
> i am still not taking prompts, but if u gave me any you will still get them.  
> find me on tumblr, same name.  
> if you're on facebook, come join my new Shameless group **Let's be Shameless.... Shamelessly** and we can Gallavich together. Mob love!!!  <3 <3 <3


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